The Honest Six Stages of the Self-Tape

By Lauren Clancey

The self-tape. It seems simple enough. Stick a camera up, do a take, send it to your agent - Bobs your Uncle. All done. Nice.
Anyone who has ever made a self-tape knows it’s not always that easy. These are the honest six stages of the self-tape.

The Email
You’re midway through your day-job shift. There’s been a couple of grumbly customers here and there. Maybe you’ve been so busy you haven’t had your tea yet. Anyway, you’re just about to have you well-earned lunch. DING. You look at your phone. It’s a self-tape request. Right. Okay. All stations GO. It’s time to make your arrangements. Gotta cancel those drinks this evening. You’re probably going to kindly ask your mum/partner/housemate if they would mind reading with you...

The Last-Minute Line Learn
Sometimes you will get a self-tape request with a few days to prep. Great! It can still be hard fitting it in amongst all your other commitments, but you’ve got this! If you don’t get a few days and the deadline is this evening...then the next few hours are going to be interesting. Cue learning lines on a packed tube or stealing glances at your sides in-between serving coffee.

The Set Up

So you’ve rushed home, dumped your bags and ran to your room. Operation Turn This Tiny Space Into A Film Studio commences. Now, this is where things can get interesting. If you have a complete set of fully functioning equipment - yay! This makes this bit a lot easier. If not, it’s time to use your imagination, folks. All manner of household equipment will be used as tripods, backdrops, props - you name it. I have been known to cut open an entire duvet cover to make it double in length. I then ironed said cover on a very small ironing board. All for the sake of a backdrop. Let me tell you, people, do not do this at home. It takes roughly a million years.

The Takes

You’re in the throes of filming. You watch yourself over and over again. Your face begins to lose meaning. Who am I? Why does my mouth do that? What am I saying? Maybe I could just start all over again? OK. And STOP. Just stop. Don’t go down this path. You don’t need to micromanage your eyebrows. You’re doing fine. After all that, you’re probably going to go with the first take anyway...

The Editing

This is about the time the app you’ve been using soundlessly for the past few months decides to crash. Or, you have no storage left on your device. So it’s time to furiously delete multiple photos that you’ve left to mount up. You send the tape over via WeTransfer only for your agent to say it has no sound. ‘How? HOW!?’, you say. And...breathe.

The Finale

Everything has been sent over to your agent. They’re happy, you’re happy. You made it through another self-tape saga alive. Congratulations! A cup of tea or glass of wine is strongly recommended to celebrate. Whatever you do at this point do not re-watch your tape. You might notice you accidentally left the ironing board in shot...

Lauren Clancey is an actor and writer. She can often be found hiding behind a book on busy tubes. Her Twitter handle is @LaurenClancey

Self-Representation - Making the most of your freedom

By Luke MacLeod

You've just graduated, or you've just made a return to acting. Or you've left your agent for one of various reasons. Either way, in all of these circumstances, you've ended up self-representing, at least for a while. So, how to make the most of this situation, even if it's not a situation you intend to stay in forever? It's a difficult conundrum because there isn't anyone else fighting battles for you, and it's quite likely you won't have the same resources available as an agent would have. Here's a few things that helped me when I self-represented for a while; as always, this is one person's experience, so absorb a variance of opinions and ideas before deciding on information that will truly help you as the individual.

Frame self-representation positively.

This is possibly the most important point of all, so let's start with why it can be a transformative experience in your acting career. Self-representation can often feel lonely and negative ("No one wants me! What have I done wrong so far?" Etc), but the first thing to acknowledge is that this career path does not have to be a race. It takes the time it takes, and putting pressure on yourself to rush into 2% success won't help. Self-representation was the biggest learning curve in my career to giving myself the best chance in every situation.

Embrace the freedom of choice.

You can literally choose what you apply for! You don't have to go up for that commercial, or that Rattigan play, or that corporate job. You get to choose, so find the projects that interest you the most and use your time to prioritise them instead.

Use your regionality to your advantage.

This applies to everyone, including London folks. We all come from somewhere, and more often than not that area will have a local producing theatre; these theatres often want to hire locals, to put back into their own community. So you grew up in the Hammersmith area? Write to the Lyric. You grew up in Sheffield? Write to the Crucible. It will always be worth your time, because as a local to the area you can tell the local stories better than any other actor; artistic directors are more often than not good at recognising that very fact.

Create your own database.

This is something that can be useful for every actor, but it does require a fair amount of time commitment. Keep track of who you've met for what project and when, write down projects/theatres/companies they're attached to, and so on. Writing out such information gets it out of your head and onto a page that can be called upon more reliably than your own memory.

Think like an agent.

Why are you the most suitable actor for the given role? What skillsets do you have that make you stand out? Do you look accurately represented in your headshots at the moment (be blunt with yourself)? Does your CV/showreel tailor towards the roles and jobs you want to push for? What can you do in the immediate to aid that? These are all questions you need to ask before you send that email pushing yourself for any given job, as this is what an agent will be doing in their Covent Garden office.

Take the position of the casting director/production company.

When they see your CV and decide to bring you in, is your CV bulletproof? Can you genuinely do every accent you say you can, perform every skill, back up every credit... It's a lot to ask but in the position of the self-represented actor, no one will ask these questions for you. If you feel shaky about anything on your CV, it's safer to get rid of it for now.

Find other self-represented actors and create a community.

This industry can feel lonely at the best of times. Whether it be through your 'resting job', attending classes or hanging around in bars, find other actors in your position who are just as driven as you, and sometimes magic can happen. Some of the best ideas are borne out of these new friendships, and even if you're not necessarily driven to become writers or producers between you, an outside eye to help with a self tape, run a new showreel scene with or even just grab for a hot chocolate and a hug can be eminently helpful and a shield against some of the more negative feelings that actors often are subjected to.

Social media can be useful, but be careful!

I'm not sure if it's a growing trend, but it certainly seems that more and more casting calls are channelled through the likes of Twitter than ever before. I know I have got a number of auditions through the information from people I've followed. In my experience, I rarely post, but I use social media to follow up with the up-and-comers; the fledgling writers and directors, the green producers and the folks who are determined to make new and exciting work. There's also a plethora of information spewed out by people on a variety of subjects that you'd otherwise have to pay a lot of money for, and these are the real hidden pearls (just yesterday a very respected vocal coach made a whole thread on what to do if you're certain you have a vocal injury). The flipside is that you will also see all the cast announcements that you aren't part of, stories of industry exploitation and general nastiness that can be seen through the disassociative behaviour that social media can feed. If you catch yourself finding more despair from logging in than informative potential, log out and delete the app.

Protect your mental health.

I cannot emphasise this enough as my final point. I'm not qualified to give advice on this front but if you've listened to various episodes of the podcast you should already be pretty clued up on steps you can take to keep yourself working in a healthy manner.

The above words aren't gospel, and have probably been heard in a million ways before by most working actors. But sometimes, being self-represented means you can need reassurance you're doing the right things. Trust me, most of you will be. Keep happy, keep healthy and eat that extra slice of cake (I wrote this in a cafe with a gateau in my eyeline, so that's what I'll now be doing).

Luke is an actor from the Midlands who often gets told he's too Southern to be from the North, and too Northern to be from the South, and then gets looks of disdain when he says he's somewhere in the middle. Make of that what you will. He rarely tweets, more often retweets, but can be found on Twitter at @LukeMacLeod94. 

Man! I feel like a woman.

By Ollie Kaiper-Leach

On a recent episode of The 98% (S2E8) about sexuality and masculinity Alexa and Katie and their guest Tom kept coming back to this strange idea in our industry that male performers should be ‘strong’ as though that somehow equates to ‘manliness’. In musical theatre, the trope of a ‘convincing leading man’ is so prevalent that the level of our ‘manliness’ directly influences our employability as young men. The effect this has on our mental health is not only huge, but mostly unspoken, which is worrying in an industry which is supposed provide a ‘safe space’ for flexible definitions of gender.

Towards the end of last summer, I managed to bag myself a ticket to one of the most hotly anticipated West End transfers of a musical that year. For lots of reasons, it was a fantastic show, not least owing to a cast so lacking in a weak link that Anne Robinson would surely have had a nervous breakdown. But as the curtain went down and I mulled over the details of what I had just seen, I realised something: the two biggest supporting male roles spent the majority of the time in just their underwear – and what’s more, they were both JACKED. Now to be clear, these two actors were both very talented, with cracking singing voices, immaculate dancing and convincing, funny character choices. But the distinct lack of time they spent clothed made me wonder how important the physical condition of the actors was in the casting process. Even if it was a happy accident, surely now any future casting would be influenced, and the roles defined in part by their bodies.

This show has been a key player in an ongoing discussion regarding body image for women, challenging the physical stereotypes associated with leading ladies in musical theatre, and rightly so. It is refreshing to know that a West-End leading lady can be cast according to her talent alone, and even more so to know that different body-types are beginning to be represented on stage. The good this will do for countless young girls who idolise West End stars is infinite. Which is why it strikes me as so odd that in the same show there can be such disregard for the same issues surrounding men. Not only do these two male roles, now defined by a stratospheric bar of physical appearance, perpetuate an unrealistic ideal to other male performers in the industry, but the two actors themselves must surely have felt an incredible amount of pressure to maintain their physical condition for fear of losing their jobs. One of these actors is also known for another role whose physique was his only attribute. If he is being typecast, surely then the importance of his physical upkeep has even greater implications for his career.

As musical theatre performers, we do have a professional responsibility to keep fit, perhaps more so than actors outside of musical theatre. Because of that, ‘strong’ has become synonymous with ‘employable’, and the sense of competition associated with fitness and physique results in an overwhelming fear of judgement regarding our diets and gym routines. But I think there’s an important distinction to draw between ‘physique’ and ‘fitness’: most people seem to forget that, to quote Ross and Chandler from Friends, having ‘a washboard stomach and rock-hard pecs’ is not necessarily a signifier of peak physical fitness, nor does ‘a flabby gut and saggy man-breasts’ prove the reverse.

When I was training at drama school, there was a huge emphasis put on celebrating the individual and knowing yourself well-enough to see your personal progress as a greater achievement than competitive success – and this is a hugely important mentality to hold onto when stepping out into the world and finding where you fit within the industry. But within musical theatre there is the issue that the majority of leading male roles fit a very similar template, one which adheres to a dated and narrow definition of masculinity. Tom Ramsay spoke about emotionality and gender roles, and how this allows greater diversity in female characters than in male characters. Is it any wonder then that male performers are so prone to identity issues surrounding what it means to be ‘manly’, and therefore how we fit into the industry?

This topic of ‘masculinity’ is one which is, thankfully, being talked about more now than ever before. Celebrities across the board have come forward, talking about their own struggles and vulnerabilities, and encouraging men to be open with each other, embracing a sensitivity which is human nature, instead of feeling obliged to suppress it. This applies to the physical too, encouraging a shift in fashion and style, in self-care and in body-image.

In this way, actors, as people who are trained to be sensitive and emotionally available, have been leading the way in the shifting definitions of masculinity for years. But it’s no secret that hypersensitivity also leaves us open to vulnerability, especially where social standards are concerned. When these vulnerabilities are in turn exacerbated by the templates of our industry, which is already so inherently public, the judgement coming at us from every angle can be difficult to ignore. We as theatre-makers, both on-stage and off-, have a responsibility to lead the change we want to see in society, but as a wider industry we must lead by example. Sadly, the power to do so often lies much higher up than us mere 98%. But for the meantime, to every male performer out there: it’s okay to be sensitive, and it’s okay to show it; it’s okay not to be the next Khal Drogo or James Bond, and it’s okay to cry at the end of Titanic. There’s a reason that the word for the best kind of man is a ‘gentleman’.

Ollie Kaiper-Leach is an actor, musical director and composer from Yorkshire. When not playing piano to his wall pretending he is Tim Minchin or laughing far too enthusiastically at his own jokes, he can be found drowning in tea or wishing he could grow a better beard. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram @Ollie_KLMusic.

In Support of Actors These Days: An Anonymous Response

Disclaimer: In this blog I will be discussing the recent remarks made by casting directors on social media concerning actors’ attitude and availability. I would encourage every actor to communicate with their agent about their work situation/living arrangement/availability. If casting directors are experiencing a back-and-forth with agents because actors have not kept them updated, then I can understand their frustration. This article is NOT about those situations. It is about the suggestion made in recent public posts that actors should not live a life outside of acting.

I have had a busy #actorslife this week. (hoobloodyray) I’ll give you a little insight:
On Monday I was wondering through St. James’ Park in the glorious sunshine with a couple of hours to kill before going to the theatre. My phone goes: it’s an audition for the following afternoon. I locked myself in the nearest Waterstones, took hundreds of photos of the Arden Shakespeare (sorry, Waterstones) and spent two hours learning lines out loud in a public cafe. Classic. On Thursday morning I had an audition. At 4pm, my agent called and asked if I could go back to read for another character before 6pm. Luckily I wasn’t at work; I was with a friend. So I left early, travelled across town, and got back into that audition room.

Let me say this - I am not complaining. Not at all. To be honest it’s mostly really exciting. I am just giving you a flavour of the types of situations that arise for actors every single day, and the ways in which we make things work to get in that audition room. In my experience, most actors would have done exactly the same. So when I saw the latest of a string of posts calling out actors for their ‘filthy attitudes’ and arguably suggesting that we are all lazy, arrogant, and selfish, I was a bit confused…I don’t know any actors that have that attitude. Do you?

Ok, I’m sure there are people in our industry who don’t take it as seriously as they should. But 99% of actors I know would miss their own bloody wedding for an audition. Actors frequently put their personal life to one side for the sake of their careers, and sometimes, this can be damaging. Sometimes, an actor’s work-life balance is so warped that they put their physical and mental health at risk. It is every actor’s right to be a person first and an actor second, and yet it is so hard not to give into pressure and let acting consume you. Sometimes we feel guilty for living a life outside the audition room, and that way of thinking is dangerous to our health and detrimental to our craft.

So this recent post really concerns me. I’m worried that it encourages this damaging way of thinking. I’m worried about the powerful effect it could have on actors. And in particular, I’m worried about the message it sends to those just starting out in our industry. In fact, I was prompted to write this response after receiving a private message from a third year drama school student. He had seen this particular post on Facebook after it was shared by one of his tutors - not in criticism, but in support of the views expressed. I was horrified that he had seen these views endorsed by a tutor. I was horrified that other young actors might read it and believe every word. So this article is for all of us, but especially for you.

This post paints an unrealistic picture of the average actor, and plays into our anxieties and our sense of powerlessness. The message it sends to young actors is this: YOU ARE LUCKY TO BE HERE. PIPE DOWN. Leave your kids at school; cancel your holiday; risk losing your day job. If you’re not prepared to do that, you don’t want it enough. If this is too much for you, you’re not welcome in our industry. I went through the drama school system, and in my experience most graduates are eager, a bit terrified, and prepared to do anything for their career. This post sends them further down that rabbit hole of fear, subservience, obsessive behavior and lack of self-care. This post also paints an unrealistic picture of the average casting director. I can’t recall meeting a casting director who wasn’t polite, professional and respectful. In many cases, casting directors have been so lovely and so welcoming that I’ve felt at ease in the audition room. And that brings out the best in everyone. Casting directors are not our enemies, and yet these posts suggest that they are. I would hate young actors to read these posts and think of casting directors as people to be feared.

This post was right about one thing - our industry is changing. It is changing all the time, and I think is changing for the better. Actors are using social media to call out dodgy castings, to connect with others in the industry, and to talk about mental health. Equity are improving our safety, pay and working conditions every day. It’s slow but it’s happening. Perhaps the hierarchal system which, for years, has prevented those at the bottom of the chain from speaking out and politely demanding their rights is starting to break down. And that’s amazing. Imagine what this could do for our industry:

Let’s communicate more. Let’s sit down and talk. If there’s something actors can do to help casting directors do their jobs, let’s talk about it, not rant about it on social media. We could work together to improve the situation for everyone, and this would, in turn, improve the quality of our art. It is collaboration, not fear and dictation, that makes this industry exciting. So, to all the fresher-faced, younger actors out there, I implore you to ignore that post. Ignore it. Ignore others like it. Just update your agent about your availability and all will be well.

You are a person first and an actor second. I promise you that living your life will make you better actor and a happier person. And don’t forget that this post is one voice: There are some truly wonderful people in our industry and for all our sake’s you mustn’t be afraid of them. Take care, take a holiday, please pick your kids up from school, and go have fun out there.

I didn't choose the co-op life, the co-op life chose me

By Lily Shepherd

When I meet fellow actors out and about, telling them my agent is a Co-op is always a great conversation opener. There is a lot of myths to be busted, and as an avid listener of The 98% I thought I whack together a few words of advice to my comrades who feel the Co-op life could be for them. A few tips to get started...

Make sure you research.
Like all agencies, some are better than others. I'm quite lucky because mine is genuinely one of the best, and we care about other peoples careers as much as our own. Have a look at their website to see what time of work they're getting. If you can, find out who cast it, see what CD's/theatres they have connections with. Make sure the ones you apply to have no one like you on their books, it gives you a better chance of being seen.

You get out what you put in
If you push someone for a role, whether it be a strong Spotlight submission, or phoning the casting director to follow it up, people are more likely to do that for you. (I have actually got someone a casting by doing this).

Think like an agent
When you're in the office, you need your agents hat on. This might take some adjustment time if you've only even been an actor. You will need to be reeeeally realistic about who you put up for what, it isn't just 'can they play this part' it's also, 'will they be SEEN for this part'. I.E. don't put someone with zero film credits up for the lead in a major feature. You need to look at the breakdowns objectively. Stupid subs might affect our chances of being respected by CD's and we don't want to be taken off the list!

- I joined as a graduate and knew diddly squat about the industry, having a network of 20-30 people with a wealth of knowledge and experience willing to answer any of my (sometimes stupid) questions was invaluable. If I had a conventional agent as a graduate, I probably wouldn't feel too comfortable bombarding them.

You learn about how the casting process works - From the breakdowns coming through on Spotlight, to booking people in their castings. Nothing makes you feel super involved in the industry than looking at it from different angles. Depressing as it seems, if you don't get a casting for a few months, its makes you feel like you still have your finger in that pie.

You can see the breakdowns: Everyone has their own agent's login, so you can log on to Spotlight and see what you've been put up for. This may quash the 'why haven't I been seen for ages!' frustration as sometimes when I look on, there genuinely isn't anything coming through for me at the moment, and thats fair enough! It can also be a bit 'look at all these jobs no-one wants to see me for', depends how you look at it! This can also give you a bit of a head start. If it's theatre, I can see the CD's information and breakdown, and do my own email follow up explaining why I'm right for the role, (I have actually had castings through doing this!) someone with a conventional agent won't be privy to that information.

You have a better control over your own career. - This is the main reasons Co-ops were started in the first place. You aren't at the mercy of an agent trying to squeeze money out of you, you don't want to do something? Don't have to, simple. No one will pressure you to take a job you aren't comfortable with as Co-ops are not for profit so theres no reason for them too.

The commission is lower. - As I previously mentioned. Co-op's are not for profit so any commission you pay goes back into the running of the agency; rent, utilities etc. It's generally 10% for TV/film/theatre and 12.5% for commercials.

It's rewarding - someone recently booked a life changing job, and the person who got to tell them described it as 'the best phone call they'd ever made', there's is a really nice feeling of being in it together, a win for one being a win for all!

Level playing field - Not to throw shade at myself, but there are rarely big actor stars signed with Co-op agencies, meaning you won't be sidelined for a big money maker. The numbers are also kept quite small, so people can't be forgotten about.

Time consuming 
- you generally have to do 2-4 office days a month, as well as a monthly meeting, whatever day job you have will have to factor in you will have to have time off during the week (and thats excluding castings) - you will also need to bear in mind it's unpaid work.

It's hard work! - Office days can be dead as a dodo, they can also be super busy. People's careers are in your hands 3 days a month and that can be a bit of pressure! There can be a lot of phone calls to make, emails to send, admin and finance work, and always the sucky task of telling people a job didn't go their way.

This is just my two cents, it's not for everyone - but definitely worth thinking about, especially if you haven't before. As well as making new, like-minded friends, you get a mind-opening, wealth of different experience from people you may not have otherwise met.

Lily is an ex-pat northerner living in London. Catch her in Hillsborough drama 'Anne' due to air on ITV next year. You can also follow her on twitter and instagram @lilshepz

Life After The West End; A Return To 98% Life

By Sarah Horton

So there we have it I now have a West End credit. Something I wanted so badly for so long and something I thought would be the answer to my prayers. Something I believed that once achieved would put me on the right path and some of the struggle I faced since graduating 7 years ago (god that makes me feel old) would be over. Has it turned out like that? Erm, not so much.

Us musical theatre performers are trained and focused on getting ourselves on the big WE. A place where we can solidify ourselves as MT performers and maybe earn a bob or two. When I got the offer (which I thought must be a wind up) to be an understudy on a show that would be doing a summer season on the West End I cried and so did my loved ones. It was an amazing moment, a moment I really thought was going to be a big change for me moving forward and of course in a lot of ways it has been. But here I am 2 months on after finishing the contract with no agent and no auditions.

I keep thinking to myself I’m so stupid to have believed that this credit would make such a big difference in my career but then I think that’s what we’re trained to believe. It then makes me doubt my talent, my looks and my life because, let’s face it, when you’re a performer there’s no real difference between our careers and our lives. Since finishing the show I have found it even harder than before to go back to my muggle life. I’ve felt so desperately lost that I’ve considered giving up all together. Because shouldn’t I have gone from 1 great job to another? Shouldn’t it be easier for me now to get an agent that believes in me? I’ve found it even harder to get muggle work this time around and be able to grin and bear it and with no audition or prospect of an agent in sight the feeling of “what is the point” has been nagging at me everyday.

Now I’m out of the dread that I’m hoping we all go through after finishing a contract but this time with a slightly altered perspective. I feel like my dreams are no longer enough to get me through, I’m not getting any younger (damn it) and the older I’m getting the more I’m craving stability (which really shocks me to be honest). I feel like I’ve been hit with a harsh dose of reality but in a lot of ways I’m grateful for it. It’s opened my eyes to how blinkered I’ve been and how focused on certain goals I have become. With my 30th birthday looming I’m realising how little of my life I can actually plan. Before that was completely acceptable and exciting but now I would actually like to be able to plan my birthday party!

The lesson I’ve learned from all of this is that we shouldn’t fixate so much on this one goal. There are other things that can be equally as fulfilling as being on a West End stage and we should embrace that more and not let ourselves or others make us feel like it’s not a big enough achievement. The biggest lesson is to not take it all so seriously because here I am typing this post in a random reception somewhere in central London earning £9 per hour. So many great and definitely testing things came out of this experience and it’s really made me think about what I really want for my future. It’s also pushed me to pursue other things that actually bring a great deal of fulfilment to my days and, dare I say, I might have found some talents I didn’t know I had.

Sarah is an actor originally from Nottingham (which is the midlands for any southerners out there) currently living in a flat share in London. She has credits she’s proud of and baffled by including a Christmas spent as an overweight elf and a Halloween as a reluctantly dancing pumpkin. You can find her over on Instagram @sarahhorton__ moaning about her temp job and sharing the day to day struggles of a short blonde human trying to make it in the industry. Sarah is very passionate about mental health and she speaks about that over on her blog. The 98% is usually listened to on Sarah’s commute whilst under the armpit of an angry business man on the northern line.

I'm a person first and an actor second

By a couple anonymous actors

Prepare yourself for a (relatively) eloquent rant…

There seems to be a worrying trend of late (on Twitter at least) of bad mouthing actors for cancelling a casting the day of. Now, this isn’t just someone not showing up because they can’t be bothered and not warning anyone…this is a person, (most probably an agent), calling the casting director to let them know they will no longer be able to attend for whatever reason. Seems legit. Right? 

Well, recently there have been a few Casting Directors taking this complaint to Twitter. Publicly shaming these actors as ‘unprofessional’ ‘uncommitted’ and ‘rude’, with suggestions of ‘blacklisting’ them. 

To me this is disrespectful, lacking in any kind of empathy and brimmed full of that tasty delicious hypocrisy. It would be rude to not call, it would be disrespectful to not show up and it would be unfair on other actors for someone to agree to an audition knowing they do not intend to go. But it is also unprofessional to publicly humiliate actors and joke about adding them into a weird ‘Burn Book’ purgatory never to be cast again – is the power balance not out of an actors favour enough? Just another thing to worry about. I know of instances where actors have had their audition cancelled by the casting office the same day, actors who go into auditions and find out the role has actually already been cast and not to mention the plenty of times auditions are running so behind actors have to miss work and put their livelihood at risk, which is inconvenient too! Yet you never see tweets from actors on such matters, with hordes of people wanting to bring down those mentioned. And this is what makes the matter worse, not only the clear power imbalance but fellow actors jumping on the bandwagon in some sycophantic commenting cult, as if somehow slagging off others on social media makes you seem like the next best casting option. 

Aren’t we all in this together? 

There is NOTHING wrong with cancelling the day of a casting. I’m not talking about no shows…actors confirming auditions and then just not turning up without forewarning is definitely rude, disappointing and frankly confusing but as long as you have the common courtesy to let them know in as much time as possible and apologise surely we, as humans, can understand that inconvenient life issues that crop up?

I happen to have a medical condition called Hemiplegic Migraine – basically it is a condition that mimics the symptoms of a stroke and is completely debilitating. Every time I have one of these I have to go to A&E to make sure I am actually not having a stroke because they can’t bloody tell and I have a higher risk of having a stroke because of it. Now, very unfortunately they can be triggered by stress (lucky me) and I have to take daily medication to ward them off. For whatever reason, sometimes I can find the whole auditioning process quite stressful – can I afford the day off work, can I afford the travel, can I learn the lines in time, why has that fuck off massive spot appeared and so on…you get the gist. 

So, what happens if I have a migraine the day of a casting? Should I drag my half-paralysed body out of bed to attend the audition in fear of being blacklisted or scrolling through endless tweets from fellow actors slagging me off, or should I go and get checked out at the hospital? This seems like a ludicrous question. But it does feel like, when you see these posts on Twitter from Casting Directors you want to work with and other actors who are in the trenches beside you, that you are not afforded the understanding or empathy you would get in any other situation. ‘You are an actor and this is your job so you should have been there unless your head was hanging off next to your arsehole.’

It is such an unrealistic expectation that all actors are going to be able to make every casting every single time. One of the most perturbing comments on this matter is ‘how selfish of that actor, that spot could have gone to someone else, they are so lucky to get an audition in the first place how dare they waste that!’ as if actors don’t already know that auditions are like gold dust! We KNOW how important they are, we KNOW it’s like winning the lottery to even get one, we DO feel privileged when we get the chance to audition…I don’t know any actors who don’t feel all those things 100%…do you? So why suddenly the assumption that it’s the opposite? I once went to a commercial casting so ill with the flu that when I left the room someone had to catch me on my way down to the floor as I almost passed out. I hadn’t left the house in 10 days but refused to miss the casting. In hindsight I should have stayed at home, so should I have been blacklisted?

Here are some reasons I have heard people have had to cancel auditions, or ones I imagine could easily occur:
- A sudden death of a loved one
- Mental health difficulties
- Illness
- Childcare issues
- Work suddenly changing their mind and insisting you can’t leave
- Travel problems (especially if coming from across the country!)
- A pipe bursting in your flat and your kitchen flooding with sewage water (yes that happened to me, luckily not on the day of a casting but a plausible occurrence!)

Reasons I don’t think actors cancel castings:
- They wake up the morning of (after already booking the time off work, sorting out their outfit and doing their prep) and decide they actually can’t be assed and would rather watch Loose Women.

Another thing I think casting directors forget about is how information is passed to (lots of) actors…via their agent. Especially commercial castings that are so last minute. You know how it goes…you get an email at 6pm with a casting for the next day. It’s not a request asking for confirmation - it’s a solid date, time and location. Sometimes even during a time you’ve put into tagmin that you aren’t available. But you’re at work and so don’t get the email until you next check your phone and you realise you can’t go (for whatever reason) and you WANT to give the casting office as much notice as you can but by this point your agent has left for the evening. So you send an overly apologetic email explaining that you can’t go which of course the agent doesn’t get it until the next morning, the day of the audition, and so has to cancel. And then other actors are on twitter saying their name should be put in a book of blacklisted actors? 

Even if there are a couple actors who are a bit of a knobhead (come on, we’ve all encountered them!) and who do cancel for no reason with no thought of how another keen actor could have taken that slot…someone who’s dad died on the day of a casting (true story) shouldn’t be lumped in with them in some sort of burn book that all these comments on twitter are suggesting!

We are all just people at the end of the day. We all have commitments, emergencies, unforeseen circumstances, illness, child-care issues, other job offers, mental health issues, the list is endless. Just like if the casting director encountered any of these problems and would have to cancel on 50+ actors would it be annoying? Heck yes. Would you refuse to ever audition for them again? Hell no! Rather than bad mouthing each other on social media, show a bit of empathy for your fellow tribe. Stop and consider for a minute that you don’t know their story or circumstances. Just because they had the opportunity to be in the room does not mean it was taken away from you. 

There is enough pressure on us to be perfect already and we’re all doing all we can to navigate this lifestyle. Every actor I know works a job they don’t like that much almost always on zero hours contracts JUST so that can have the flexibility to make auditions. They don’t then cancel them just because! We are in this together. Be kind and try to remember we are always people first and actors second. 

How I Learned I Actually Wanted To Quit The Industry

By Amy Macginley

“Survival bias: the logical error of concentrating on the people or things that made it past some selection process and overlooking those that did not, typically because of their lack of visibility” [Wikipedia, 2019]

“Sylvester Stallone wrote his own script for Rocky and won an Oscar” A middle aged fellow event waiter tells me, stuck up against the wall, waiting for the wedding party to settle down. His eyes were full of hope. Oh boy, not those stories, I thought. It’s the first few stories us actors hear when we get into the industry; Matt Damon and Ben Affleck and their screenplay, or even more recently, Denise Gough who scored a West End Lead when just months before she’d been turned down to work as a cleaner. Those are the stories touted to creatives time and time again that give us a false picture of reality. I thought, how do I tell him, it's probably not gonna happen like that for you, when I hadn’t fully admitted it to myself?

Reality came knocking at my personal door via real world situations, like being in workshops or on extras sets, meeting actors double my age and bitter from lack of progress or opportunity, trying as hard as I was and getting nowhere. These weren’t the ones being talked about the in industry. It was easy to avert my gaze back to my social media actor-populated-echo-chamber posting motivational quotes emploring a rhethoric of:  keep going no matter’ll get there in the end, I promise, and tell myself, I’ll be the exception, the fabricated belief aided by my unconscious absorbing of media during my childhood, a la disney movies, where because the protagonist follows the dream, everything works out in the end.

And it might, nay, for some it will. But for many it won’t. Statistically the chances are low, just as the chances of winning the lotto are low. Most people wouldn’t rest their livelihood, sanity and ability to express themselves on something as fickle as the lotto, yet we do it with acting time and time again. Sat on a plane, panicking about the fact that I was in a metal tube soaring above the earth I comforted myself with the statistics. Flying is statistically safer than driving. It was then I realised these statistics weren’t going to bend to my situation and mean I was 99% likely going to die on that plane and I could take comfort in that. This works both ways. If I could take comfort in that statistic, I had to take horror in the other one, that most likely, this career would leave me like those people twice my age; still hungry for roles and a stable chunk of money each month.

When we understand the true nature of a situation, we can make better decisions about it. I came to realise instead of following a dream, I could confront reality and work with that. My reality was that, getting older, stability was becoming more important, the need for a clear career progression in another area I found engaging could be fulfilling and that heck, if I loved acting so much I could still do it for a hobby. So I quit, and decided to return to education. Perhaps it took me a few years longer than it ought of, the survival bias distorting my perception of the nature of the industry.

We are at a great time now where people are sharing their truth. The actors speaking about the hardships and realities of the industry is serving to provide a broader picture of what #actorslife is really all about. But that also means the truth of many is the rampant promotion of idealistic self-belief, which can be beautiful, but also dangerous, if not swallowed along with the slighter bitter tasting pill of statistical likelihood of outcome. When I would frantically google “should I quit acting?” during a rough time, nearly all results would point to some story in which actors had nearly quit just when their big break came-a-knocking and proceeded to tell me to never give up. Yet, most actors never get their “big break” and many actors, including me, do give up and find it to be a decision well-made (if not terrifying at the time!). Survival bias stands to influence our biggest decisions, sometimes in the most vulnerable of times, by distorting our reality. This is not a sermon urging people to quit acting, but rather to encourage readers to gage the truth and proceed with your best answer to that, whatever that may be. Even as I’m writing I feel I should end with a star spangled: and NEVER give up, an example of how truly, this rhetoric is drummed into the predicted narrative arc of even an online article.

So, a note for those considering quitting:
When it comes to this topic, I insert the words of Joseph Campbell: “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us”. Letting go can be painful, coupled with the stigma of this idea of ‘giving up’. Rather than giving up, it may be seen as giving in to something greater, if there is something calling. If, intuitively, there is an "I wanna quit" voice asking to be listened to, I urge the courage to at least allow that listening space to be fully realised, that pause,  without judgement, so the truth of your needs can manifest themselves. It takes courage to rock your own boat by even questioning your path, and even more courage to accept the answer if it wasn’t the the one you had planned; mine had been planned from age 11! Like jumping into a swimming pool, in life, the transition is usually the hardest part of forging a new reality. As an “other-sider” I can say sitting in quiet space and allowing myself the guilt free moment to imagine the sacrilegious joy I might feel from quitting my dream was one of the best decisions I ever made. The new journey I am now on excites me more than the concept of a high ticket role ever could and I know for others it has done the same.

Amy is a former actress, current psychology student and fledgeling writer from London. She enjoys bouts of existential dread, ample meditation and laughing out loud in public places at Katie and Alexa in the 98% Podcast. Look at her retweet smarter folk on twitter at @amymacgram and fit the millenial curated mould on instagram also @amymacgram 

10 Things I’ve Learned About Being An Actor Since Graduating

By Katie Elin-Salt, a re-blog from The Honest Actors blog in 2015

It’s June 2010. I am wearing a green Karen Millen dress complete with matching heels that my Mother bought for me and I have had my hair professionally blow dried for the occasion. My graduation photo. There I am, proudly clutching my 2:1 BA(Hons) Acting from the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama – with absolutely no fucking idea what was supposed to happen next. I’m sure you can see the panic in my smile. After 17 years of solid education and structure the only thing I know is that yes, I would like to carry on being an actor please world, and that the girls are on about us all moving to London for a bit to try and see how it all goes down. 5 years later, I am still here. I did move, I did work as an actor, I didn’t work as an actor – but I’m still here. I am going to share 10 life lessons that I have learned in that time – some I wish somebody had told me on that day in the green Karen Millen dress, some I am really, really glad they didn’t.


1 – London Is Like A Terrible Boyfriend

I once met a boy who was a real wrong ‘un. When we met I thought he was terribly exciting and totally set apart from all the safe, homely boys I had known before. I dropped everything to be with him, even though I was well aware there was a very slim chance of things actually working out well between us. When I told people I was with him they were impressed, and he gave me a lot of opportunities. But he didn’t care about me. He gave me very little attention. If I couldn’t do exactly what he wanted exactly when he wanted me to do it, he would carry on without me. He was rude. He was cold. He stole all my money. But he was really, really fit. The less he gave the more I wanted. And sometimes, in the midst of all the dismissal and cruelty, he would take me dancing in places I never thought I would go. He would show me amazing things. In those moments he was magic. Most of the time when I was with him I felt powerless – like nothing I could do would ever be enough, like it would make no difference to him if I was there or not, like I didn’t know why I even bothered when life would be so much easier with anybody else. But whenever I left I missed him, I missed all of him – and much as I hated to admit it to myself, everything else would always be just a little bit more boring because of him.

There’s your metaphor London you horrible, sexy little shit.


2 – Some Of Your Friends Will Be Doing Better Than You

“ I am thrilled to announce I will be joining the cast of ……”

Somebody from your year in drama school is going to get a ridiculous gig as soon as they graduate and is literally never going to stop working. They are going to do amazing things such as getting on to the property ladder at the age of 24 and regularly appearing in the copy of the Evening Standard that you are reading on the way home from work.

Here is what that means – That they are doing well in their chosen career and that is bloody fantastic for them.

Here is what that does not mean – That every other aspect of their life – their relationships, family stuff, mental and/or physical health are instantly a million times better than they were before because their career is going well. That their lives are suddenly problem free. That they need your friendship, your celebrations in their success and your support in their sadder times any less than they did before.

I’m really sorry, but there really is no easy way around this, you just have to get over yourself and be happy for them. Love them in the ways you always have. Because there is nothing worse than a bitter actor, because they deserve it and because you would want the same from them if/when it is you.

Unless of course they are a totally talentless dickhead. We will deal with you next time.


3 – Some Of Your Friends Will Not Be Doing Better Than You

On the flip side of this, at any given point while your busy tweeting about only having 20 minutes in between Panto performances (#Exhausted #SoBlessedThough) – some of your brilliant, fierce, sickeningly talented friends will not be working for complete bullshit reasons that you cannot or should not try to understand. They will be ok, of course they will be ok. But they will probably feel, at times, a bit shit about the whole thing.

Do – Buy them wine. Howl at the moon with them at the injustice of it all. Listen.

Don’t – Patronise. Explain. Complain at them that you’re not sure whether to take the tour you’ve just been offered because your agent thinks you should do more T.V.


4 – You Will Not Be Best Friends With Everyone You Work With

This one took me a while. Decades worth of youth theatre and drama school closer-than-your-own- family behaviours led me to the false understanding that everyone who you share a stage with will form an instant and iron-like bond with you that none but death shall part.

Then I worked with some people who didn’t like me. Amazing, I know. It was rubbish. Sometimes it came with a subtle indifference, an invite quietly missed out of the drinks after work, a sly comment in a dressing room that probably wouldn’t have upset me if I wasn’t in a strange town without my back up crew. Sometimes it got a bit mean. All I wanted to do in these situations was call the whole cast together before warm up and scream “WHY DON’T YOU LIKE ME ? I’M REALLY REALLY FUCKING NICE !” at them, whilst simultaneously beating them round the head with my fantastic personality that they had unfortunately missed up until now. But here’s the thing. They didn’t have to like me. They just had to work with me. If you find your self in this situation I would suggest you keep your head down, be polite, don’t take any bullshit, do any snivelling in the toilets for no more/no less than five minutes, then do your job and afterwards phone your mates who properly loved you before hand and will still properly love you after.

But I’ve also worked with lots of people who did like me (Phew!) with whom I formed whats app groups, in which I wouldn’t go an evening without cracking up at the millions of in-jokes sent between those in our select crew. People who I cooked for, drank with, who met my family, whose houses I stayed in, cars I drove, children I baby sat, who knew absolutely every gory detail of my life in and out of work for the time we were together. Then the jobs ended and we all went home. They are still wonderful people, you will see them again, if your lucky enough work with some of them again and it will be like nothing has changed. But life is busy, life goes on – and that is ok.


5. You Will Be Best Friends With Some People You Work With

However, sometimes, against all odds – some will stay. And if you are very, very lucky and you find a diamond in your digs – you may just have bought yourself a fast track, 3 month intensive crash course in best-friendship that normally takes the trajectory of about 10 years.

Hold on to these people. They are rare and precious. If they can handle you at your “12 people in the audience red wine hangover 10am matinee in Hull” then they absolutely deserve you at your “West End Transfer Press Night.” Congratulations – you have just won the jackpot. This is one of the biggest achievements of your career so far. Yes, even bigger than your Offie nomination.

6. You Will Be Poor

Oh my God you will be poor. The minus sign in front of your account will become a long forgotten irrelevance as you bed down for a long term stay in available balance land. You will be so scared. You will manage tell yourself you are doing o.k at 12.01pm and then at 12.02pm you will realise that rent is due next Monday and it’s everything you have. You will feel like the actual worst person in the world when you phone your Gramma and sob when she offers you another £50 of her retirement money because your shoes aren’t waterproof anymore. You will sadly watch as your home friends who were as broke and useless as you during the uni days – slowly sail away into functioning adulthood with their useful degrees in useful things getting them useful jobs which pay for useful stuff like houses, a dog, a family, a week in Sharm-El-Sheik, a kitchen aid.

The only consolation I can offer here is that most of us are in the same boat, or at least have been at some point, and that somebody somewhere is always having a wardrobe clear out or cooking a lasagne. Make sure you are always, always around when this happens.


7. Get A Job You Like

This is what we want – a job that doesn’t make us want to die inside when our alarm goes off on a Monday morning, that pays for our rent and the occasional gin, but most importantly one that we can drop at a minutes notice for an audition or a year long acting job, only to come back to it the Monday after we finish, without any consequences or losing any money. Not much to ask is it ?

I honestly think that finding that “In Between thing” was one of the hardest and most important bits of making this whole thing work over the last 5 years. When I moved to London my flatmates and I bought one suit between us and hit the temping agencies. I got through four rounds of auditions (yes, auditions) to be a temp in Harrods. I was told at the last round that I had been successful and would start the next day, only to receive a phone call at 9pm that night saying they had discovered some unnatural highlights in my hair (home dye – see number 6) and that this was simply “against everything Harrods stood for.” I was promptly demoted to John Lewis where I worked for one shift getting a migraine under the strobe lighting – and whilst giving someone a “skin care makeover” I accidentally mistook a nail varnish remover pad for a black head pad and told the customer it was “supposed to burn.” This was not my gig.

Eventually I found my little niche as a teaching assistant, mostly with children with special needs. I love it. I don’t love it as much as acting because if I did I would totally sign the contract to rinse that maternity pay and pension stuff, but it works for me. I know the world doesn’t end with my acting contract. I can get up in the morning, go to sleep at night and feel like I have added something to the world.

Find your thing, stick with it. But when leaving for an acting job, at all costs do resist the urge to scream “I’VE HIT THE BIG TIME ! SCREW YOU AND YOUR EARLY LUNCHES ELAINE !!!” – I sincerely hope that you never have to go back, but you may, and Elaine will enjoy your return a lot less if you maintain a dignified silence.


8. We should all put 50p in the swear jar every time we ask another actor “Are you working at the minute ?”

Projectile word vomit that’s what it is. We all know it’s awful, we all fucking hate being on the other side of it, we’ve all said it, we all felt like a massive Billy Bellend after we had. If you have ever sat in an Uber and despite promising yourself not to resort to benile, cliched taxi chat, suddenly blurted out “BEEN BUSY ? WHAT TIME ARE YOU ON TILL ?” into the awkward silence – it’s the same thing as that.

As actors we have to make a lot of conversations with other actors, with whom the only thing we know for sure we have in common is acting. We are also genuinely interested in acting. So obviously when in the theatre bar, an audition, a birthday, a sunday roast, a random bump-in on the street – there is a very enticing and obvious conversation starter. Just try to have another question as back up. If somebody is about to be the next James Bond, if it is important to them they will tell you. At which point lock on with both hands, promise you’ll come see it and congratulate them on their glorious achievements. It is better than watching somebody awkwardly fight their way around something that could be making them feel a little bit sad because you couldn’t think of anything else to say.

However if you are on the other side of this question and you are not working, I have recently discovered there is great liberty in saying “Nothing. Absolutley nothing.” Any actor who is not an arsehole will proceed to commiserate with you on what a fickle fucker this industry can be, then the conversation will move on, leaving you free to talk about literally ANYTHING ELSE, whilst celebrating all the other brilliant things about your glorious self. It’s quite nice actually.


9. Have Friends That Aren’t Actors. Talk About Things That Aren’t Acting.


Oh my Goooooood if you do nothing else, no matter where you are with all of this acting shit, do this. My friends from Bridgend bloody loved it when I was on the T.V. They screen grabbed all most every scene I was in, sending them around our what’s app group at lightning speed using many an excited-face emoji to show how proud they were. But they also couldn’t give a flying fuck if I’m working in the national or working as a temp. I bloody love them for that. They are much more interested in discussing upcoming weddings, important life events and mega lol-z at people we used to go to school with on Facebook. We all whinge about our jobs to each other and none of us has a clue what the other is talking about because everything we do is totally separate and different. It is so, so great.

I’m not saying don’t be friends with actors, most of us wouldn’t have many friends left. Also there is definitely a place for celebrating/venting about an audition/job with somebody who absolutely understands what you are going through. Just try not to do it all the time. This job takes enough of our energy when we are doing it or trying to, you’ll go absolutely mad if it takes over your social life too. If stuck for other conversation – type in “Funny Cat Videos” into youtube, sit and laugh with a friend for an hour. You can thank me for that one later.


10. And What It All Comes Down To My Friends, Is That Everything’s Gonna Be Quite Alright

7am. Rainy Monday. 2011. Bus Stop on Holloway Road. No Umbrella. Just Accidentally Checked My Bank Balance (Natwest App too close to Twitter – shittywankbuggerballs) Late For Work. Crying.

Abesentmindedly press shuffle on my iPhone whilst trying to focus on my own misery. A long forgotten voice from my childhood, downloaded in a wine induced nostalgic karaoke session with the girls – makes a bid for my attention

“I’m Broke But I’m Happy. I’m Poor But I’m Kind. I’m Short But I’m Healthy – YEAH !”

“Not now Alanis” I hiss, “I am trying to be miserable” But before I can get my finger to the shuffle button and find The Smiths, she continues;

“I’m High But I’m Grounded, I’m Sane But I’m Overwhelmed, I’m Lost But I’m Hopeful – BABY !”

“SO AM I ALANIS ! I AM SO LOST !” I scream, a dog stares concernedly.

“And What It All Comes Down Too, Is That Everthing’s Gonna Be Fine … Fine … Fine”

That song got me through a sad day, and many since. But you might very well rather mince your own tits that listen to Alanis Morrisette. All I’m saying is – find your thing that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright in the 20 minutes of panic when you feel it very much isn’t going to be. Just don’t let it be something that makes you feel even worse the next day (Yes, I can see you for what you are Jaegerbomb.) A cup of tea, phoning my Gramma, making a really crap victoria sponge and getting a text from my flatmate 3 hours later saying “There’s. Literally. Sugar. Everywhere”, blowing the dust of my guitar and playing Greenday badly, these are all small bits of sanity I have grabbed onto over the last 5 years. Just something to keep your hands and your brain busy, to keep your feet on the floor, to remind you your still here. Then all of a sudden, I promise, it will feel ok again.

And if when your agent calls with an audition you forget all about the sponge cake and burn it, if you still get butterflies in your tummy, if before you have even finished reading the script properly you are already googling “Best Digs In Hull” – Keep on plugging your A-Game you fucking trouper.

You’re on the right path.

Katie Elin-Salt is one half of The 98% podcast. As well as some acting work she’s chuffed with Katie has also starred as Peppa Pig and Supergirl in various children's parties across the UK. She is a series regular of Judge Judy (playing 'person watching it on the sofa whilst once again not in the gym'.) Hear more from Katie by listening to The 98% wherever you get your podcasts and follow her on twitter @KatieElinSalt!

New Year, New Existential Crisis: Realistic resolutions for actors

By Alexa Morden

Christmas trees are looking sad, mince pie packets are mere crumbs and another year of “New Year New Me” tweets are on the horizon, while actors across the world have mini breakdowns of “what am I doing with my life and am I really embarking on another year of this crazy unpredictable industry and lifestyle?!” We asked listeners on twitter for their New Years resolutions that will hopefully make it all a little bit easier and here they are with some thoughts from me on how to realistically stick to them!

“To focus on my own journey and not be swayed by others.” (@sopheleni)

Ahhh yes “comparison is the thief of joy”. Not comparing myself is something that is always on my mind but also something I find very hard to put into action. The number 1 problem? Social media of course! A tool that seems to be crafted purely to cause comparison by only posting the highlights of one’s life but also a tool some argue is essential in networking/finding work/being up to date with all things industry. “You should try a social media blackout!!!” chimes in my well meaning mother when I’m talking about my mental health. She has every right to say that of course, however twitter is how I got contacted by a film maker to be in their short film and by a photographer a few years ago where I did a photoshoot and ended up on the front page of a magazine. So what to do? One things for certain is that it seems like when you’re feeling your lowest is when twitter is a constant stream of “SO EXCITED TO FINALLY ANNOUNCE THAT….!”’s…just to rub it in.

For me I do not find comfort anymore in “it’s just not your time” “just be happy for them!” “your time will come” thoughts. For me I’ve changed my mindset from “stop being a bitter actor Alexa” to “your feelings are completely valid, this sucks, I know you wish everyone including yourself could be getting all the work they deserve, but there’s nothing you can do to control that. Now maybe let’s put our phone away and watch some Ru Paul’s Drag Race instead hmmmm?”

We are CONSTANTLY compared to each other in this industry. From drama school auditions, to agents (“we already have someone like you on our books”), to auditions, to red carpet outfits (“so and so’s outfit marks a compelling difference to the…..”), to reviews, to director’s sifting through self tapes, to people sat at home talking about what they’re watching on tv (“so and so would have done a much better job, this actor is boring!”) to audiences comparing this performance of the show to the performance 10 years ago (“well I thought it was much more convincing when so and so played it at the Novello”) I think it’s LUDICROUS for actors to be told we shouldn’t compare ourselves or our journey’s with other performers when EVERYONE ELSE DOES!! And by saying that it makes people feel like they’re doing something wrong when they, inevitably, do.

It’s really hard when someone you went to drama school with has worked consistently since graduating and is now at the National and filming for Channel 4 on their days off while you still can’t master how to make the perfect cappuccino at the coffee shop you work at to help afford new headshots. OF COURSE you are happy for them (and will be trying your damnedest to get a ticket to go support them!..Maybe they have comps?) But when it’s close to home it’s a reminder of how you’re not doing everything you thought was possible when you first graduated, something which seems to be possible for others so obviously isn’t completely unattainable - why hasn’t it happened to you? (and here comes the spiral into crying into your pillow at 2am….) That doesn’t make you a bad person, or bitter, or terrible for not feeling genuine 100% JOY for every cast announcement all the time. It makes you human. Recognise those feelings, remind yourself your worth doesn’t come from an acting job or a post with 100+ likes on instagram or an “excited to announce” tweet. Remind yourself that the actor you’re stalking online posting rehearsal room pictures from The Donmar has probably felt exactly how you’re feeling right now and probably will again. Don’t let yourself spiral into comparison about things you have no control over. If you’re doing all you can that’s all you can do. Social media analysis of busy working actors will do nothing positive. Go compare RuPaul’s runway looks through the seasons instead.

“To stop myself and other people asking the question ‘what are you up to at the moment’” (@RoseReade)

YES another one that is actually quite hard to do and takes practice. When people ask me what I’m up to at the moment I now answer “well last night I watched 3 hours of Crazy Ex Girlfriend on Netflix, I’m finally up to date with My Favourite Murder podcast and I made the BEST vegan pizza for lunch.” This comes after years of even having to remind MYSELF that I am a person first and an actor second. So I understand the blank stares when I give this answer. I even said in an audition once when asked what I’m up to “Do you mean in life in general or acting stuff?” Just to buy myself some time because I was so confused….they?? had?? my?? CV?? in front?? of?? them??

When talking to other actors this is how it usually goes…“Oh you mean acting wise? Fuck all mate what about you?” “Yeah nothing really for me either.” Because I guarantee if that actor is doing something exciting they would have A) Made an announcement on social media B) Already texted you, if you’re friends C) Somehow wangled it into the conversation before even being asked what they’re up to. AND SO THEY BLOODY SHOULD DO ALL THESE THINGS!!! Getting a performing job is like winning the lottery and you can bet your bottom dollar when I next get a job I’m going to be more excited to tell people than when I got engaged!!

When someone asks what you’re up to we KNOW they don’t mean “are you thinking of going on holiday this summer?” or “are you up to date on Making A Murderer?” It’s a weird, round about way of asking if someone is feeling fulfilled acting wise without actually saying those words. They don’t want to flat out ask. So that’s what I do. When I see a friend or bump into an actor I haven’t seen in a while I ask them first about general life stuff and then pointedly ask “how’s acting stuff?” Because we shouldn’t NOT ask. If it was anyone else in the muggle world we would ask how work is going, what their job is, if they’re enjoying it etc. The difference is we wouldn’t centre that persons entire existence on it. So asking a fellow performer how auditions are/if they have a job coming up/did they enjoy that thing you saw that they did on instagram (because, come on, don’t pretend like you didn’t see it!) is fine and polite and interesting but it’s not phrased in a way that could mean anything when we all know it only means one thing ie “what are you up to?” “how are things?”
I also find that asking pointedly after general life chit chat encourages them to talk openly about it rather than just giving a polite answer to an anticipated question.
”What have you been up to?”
”Oh not much really but keeping my fingers crossed things will be pick up!”
”How are you finding the ol’ #actorslife recently?”
”Agh quite tough actually, I’ve been feeling a bit lost so I’ve decided to give writing a go!”
etc etc etc


"To not be so hard on myself” (@sarahnaughton70)

Totally valid. Totally YES. Totally what we say almost every episode of the podcast. This industry is hard enough as it is without throwing YOURSELF giving you grief into the mix. If your friend came to you with mascara down their face and stomach cramps from spending all day in the foetal position would you say to them the things you say to yourself? Whenever you have thoughts enter your mind mentally beating you up, imagine it’s Donald Trump saying those things. Then promptly tell him to FUCK off.

Do you have New Years Resolutions? Let us know in the comments or tweet us! @the98percentpod And if you’d like to write a blog, get in touch using the contact us page or email

Alexa is one half of The 98% podcast. One of her Dad's favourite performances of hers was playing Aunt Sponge in James and the Giant Peach in the annual local Stagecoach production when she was about 8 years old. You can find out a lot of stories and thoughts from Alexa by listening to The 98% wherever you get podcasts! Or by having a mooch around this website and following her on twitter @alexamorden and instagram @alexa_morden!

Panto: Enough Jakeman’s throat sweets to last a lifetime

By Lauren Waine

For many, Christmas means joy and cheer, parties and socialising, snuggling under a blanket with a hot chocolate (or toddy!) and feeling warm, fulfilled and merry. However, for many, Christmas means one thing and one thing only... pantomime! Panto is the highlight in every actor’s calendar; secure a lovely pantomime gig and you are set for winter. Store up your earnings and you are set for a secure and safe New Year too. After gruelling auditions where you have to sing, dance, act, show your best party trick and tell a joke to a panel of people who demand the very highest of standards for their panto, often you are exhausted before you’ve even began rehearsals for the thing!

Nonetheless, we all love it. Or loathe it. Or love to loathe it. ‘Oh no we don’t! Oh yes we do!’ You get the gist. One thing is for certain, panto is hard work. In no other job are you subjected to a room of screaming, snotting, sugar-fuelled children who have the potential to deafen you with their frequently wonderfully timed comments and yells of “it’s behind you”! For those of you who have yet to experience pantomime, I understand this description could be off-putting but do not fear; once you have finished that show, there is only another 73 left to do in the run! Joking aside, the hours are long and that’s before you even get to tech. How to describe a technical rehearsal for a pantomime? Imagine being trapped in an empty auditorium with various actors shaking from the high intake of caffeine they’ve been topping themselves up with, all the while there’s a large volume of people dressed in black running from stage right to stage left trying to stop pieces of the set from taking out one of the child dancers and the director is sat with their head in their hands as the custard for the ‘mess/slop’ scene is congealing and spurting out of all the wrong pipes making the entire scene look like a rough and ready adaptation of Willy Wonka.

As tech ends and the run begins, the real fun starts! This truly is the time that all of the long hours and hard work comes to fruition and seeing the reaction on faces both big and small makes you realise the real reason why you do it. Looking out into that auditorium, or community hall or old folks home, you should always feel that extreme rush or pride and joy that you are bringing theatrical magic to a bunch of complete strangers who are ready to be taken on a journey through an enchanted woods, or are magic castle or far off lands or across the seven seas. Performers can gain a bad reputation for being self-indulgent but, in my experience, pantomime is a fantastic tool for actors to forget their inhibitions and have a whale of a time in that world that so many enjoy.

Don’t get me wrong though, sometimes at 10am when you have a hideous cold, your chest is so tight you can’t breathe and you’ve taken enough Jakeman’s throat sweets to last a lifetime, the last thing in the world you want to do is sing another song from The Greatest Showman. My advice in those moments is to look out into that audience and see the little boy or girl in the front row who is singing along with you, never taking their eyes from yours and wishing that one day, they will be on that stage doing what you are doing now. For me, that is what helps me whack out my best ‘5,6,7,8’ even in those moments of fatigue and winter flu. Many people ask about what the hardest thing about pantomime is. Is it the stamina required to get through 3 months worth of shows? Is it remembering all the lines? Is it being heard over the screams of children?

There are two most difficult things about being in panto-
1: Getting your fake eyelashes to stay on fleek for 73 shows, day in, day out
2: Working out ways to make your other colleagues outwardly corpse on stage. Once you have number one sorted, it’s time to focus on number two. This is what makes panto so fun to do and keeps every performance fresh and interesting. I’m sure everyone will have some hilarious tales of things they have done to their friends, some classics include: covering your teeth in lipstick and smiling your biggest, teethiest grin to Prince Charming, meddling with props to make them fall apart as soon as you touch them and adding some of the deadliest adlibs that you know your scene is going to crack at.

I have created a list of my top tips for surviving pantomime season:

• Buy a toothbrush- you don’t want to be kissing your prince or princess with the lingering smell of your boiled egg salad.

• Echinacea- this is some form of herbal miracle.

• Use a steamer.

• Never annoy a techie or you could find yourself suddenly plunged into a blackout in the middle of a scene.

• Always ensure your microphone is turned off before you stub your toe backstage or before commenting on your fellow cast-mates’ performances.

• Don’t sleep with a co-star- they are never as attractive offstage as they are on.

• Always say please and thank you to the cafe staff if you ever want a free coffee.

• Remember to laugh at yourself and others.

• The Stage Door Keeper has the best stories- listen to them.

To conclude, I leave you with a little festive rhyme...

Panto comes just once a year,
Filled with song and dance and joy.
It fills us all with Christmas cheer
For every single girl and boy.
It is a time to show the folks
That princesses can be brave.
That the baddie’s schemes were all a hoax
And the kingdom can be saved.
And the dame will always be a hoot
And everyone will yell.
There’ll be laughter and fun to boot,
As all’s well that ends up well.
Panto is for me and you,
Whether you’re big or small.
And so without further adieu,
A Merry Christmas to you all!

Make the most of your time this festive season, remember your lines and don’t walk into the scenery. What could possibly go wrong?

Lauren is an actor from the North East of England, currently based in London. For more anecdotes, you can follow her on Twitter @LaurenWaine_ Lauren is a working class actor and is a huge supporter of working class artists in the industry and is a co-company director of Unearthed Theatre (@unearthedThr). She listens to The 98% on the go and recommends listening to the podcast whenever and however you can!! 

5 reasons to date an actor

By Katie Elin-Salt, a re-blog from

Did you know that in any given rehearsal room at any given time you are never more than 6 feet away from:

  1. A rat 

  2. A gluten free vanilla soy macchiato 

  3. Someone emphatically proclaiming that they "don’t date bloody actors!" 

Listen, I get it. Most of us generally want a long-term relationship that is drama free - so why in McKellen's name would you actively choose a life partner who has quite literally got a career and possibly a degree in it? No thanks. Firm swipe left to you Mr Cumberbatch, I'll take Tony from HR with his annual leave and a pension, thank you very much. However, unfortunately for the love story of Tony and I, he doesn't exist. For the last 5 years, I have spent time both being an actor and adopting one as my actual live-in lover. Best find some upsides then. Sorry, Tony. 

We have loads of free time for you

Ever woken up next to your S.O. on a Monday morning and desperately wished you could sack off the meetings and spend the whole day eating sausage rolls in your PJs? Well honey, you've come to the right bed! We aren't called to rehearsals till Friday. Wanna go on an impromptu Wednesday picnic? No problem-o. We will sack off the leafleting and butter up the sandwiches. Let's get the first off-peak train to Margate. Everyone knows you can't spell fun-employed without F.U.N.

We can give you free holidays * 

*Holidays may include Halifax, Northampton and/or Crewe 

"Yes, I know we've had that week in Majorca planned since 2014 and we are half way to the airport, but put that Mojito on ice, babe. I've just been cast as ‘tarty girl #6’ in a tour of care homes of Norwich! A-HA!" 

There are times when being an actor takes you to places you never thought you'd go. And sometimes these places are towns that don't have train stations let alone a Pret-A-Manger. But we can have a lovely weekend exploring them together. Let's get drunk at a karaoke night and belt out "Life is a Cabaret" to the bemused locals. Let's go do the ghost walk in York. Let's eat all the oatcakes in Stoke-on-Trent. Let's climb Snowdon. Let's find a pub with no phone signal and worry about nothing except improving Scrabble tactics till Monday. And I promise that after a week of seeing no one but colleagues and the woman in the corner shop who sells us post show pot noodles at 11pm, we will ALWAYS be pleased to see you. 

We are professional liars

Seriously. This is how mamma brings home the bacon, baby. On a stage. On the telly. We lie for an actual living. You may initially feel this to be a negative thing but before you make any snap decisions, let me just assure you that your mum is not as neurotic and annoying as you think she is. And yes, you still look like a wanton sex god/goddess in that penguin onesie. And dinner was absolutely delicious. And of course, I like your sister. Feeling reassured and pretty great about yourself right now? Thought so. That dress looks great on you by the way. 

We are really good at role play

Back in 1994, The Backstreet Boys pleaded with bae to "quit playin' games with my heart.” But would they have been so quick to dismiss the idea if they had the opportunity to play the ZIP ZAP BOING GAME at a professional level with their thespian beau? I doubt it. 

Ever had a secret burning desire to change from fire to ice on a Friday night? Fancy putting on a lion mask and going feral in the front room? Not batting an eyelid mate. There is literally nothing you can think of that is weirder than that thing we did week 4 of voice class at drama school. We are all over it and nothing says sexy like a full character analysis beforehand. Right?!

We will shatter your celeb envy

Ever turned on the TV for comfort on a hungover Sunday morning, only to find a perfect semblance of a human staring back at you with their beautifully formed visage beaming away like an angelic vision of everything you’re not?!

What if the person lying next to, sensing your insecurity, could lean over and whisper gently into your ear:

"That isn't her real nose ...”

“…he's been wearing a wig since 2002.”

“I once saw them at 3a.m. licking apple sours off the floor of Infernos...."

The media might lead you to believe that actors are a better, more toned, better smelling version of the everyman. We on the inside know this isn't true. However, if you step out on a Friday night with one of us on your arm, you can get all of that hard-earned fictitious glory without ever having to step foot in a contemporary dance class. Just don't expect us to pay for the drinks.


Katie Elin-Salt is one half of The 98% podcast. As well as some acting work she’s chuffed with Katie has also starred as Peppa Pig and Supergirl in various children's parties across the UK. She is a series regular of Judge Judy (playing 'person watching it on the sofa whilst once again not in the gym'.) Hear more from Katie by listening to The 98% wherever you get your podcasts and follow her on twitter @KatieElinSalt!

What if there's no bike?

By Chris Tester

I listen to podcasts, and as an actor, three have recently stood out.  Honest Actors (including Katie’s contributions!), Two Shot Pod and The 98% have all endeavoured to explore the reality of the profession beyond glossy magazine and film interviews.  Though the formats vary widely, frank and honest discussions about how and why people entered the profession, the difficulties they’ve had and the attitudes and values that have shaped them.  The insights I have gained from all of these has been invaluable, reassuring me that a lot of my daily struggles are shared throughout the industry.  But the one common trait that comes across all three is that the interviewed actor tends to be getting auditions.  They might not be getting a ton, they still have to cope with overwhelming rejection - but when the ‘r’ word is raised, it’s typically in the context of having gone for a meeting and not booked the gig (or even heard back - Danny Lee Wynter’s particularly articulate and forthright on that issue, which I believe shows a basic disrespect to an actors’ mental health).  As Denise Gough said, “Stay on the bike and enjoy the fucking ride”.

But as I’m sure at least 98% of actors are aware, the mundane reality is that they can’t even get in the room, or on that fucking bike.  I’ve had four agents since graduating, and the most auditions I’ve had in one year is five.  I’ve had two TV auditions ever.  And one for a feature film.  That’s it. 

The obvious question this prompts, is what to do?  If you don’t get that big break, or simply don’t have the opportunity to get rejected in the first place, how to you constructively work towards a solution?

You can work on getting a better agent, obviously.  But unless you belong to a particular casting niche, they need to see you in something.  So you can prioritise screen work, battle to get decent material and forge together some sort of showreel.  This will almost certainly have issues with production and/or writing standards, but you may strike it lucky and get some brilliant footage you can then approach agents and casting directors - the gatekeepers - with.  Half of my showreel is made up of one independent project I did which was actually well written and had me alongside someone ‘of profile’.  I got it through consistently reaching out to casting directors and film directors and getting a little break. It’s an ongoing project that’s in an actor’s power to change and improve.

You can do rehearsed readings or collaborate on projects with friends to keep sharp.  Occasionally you may even get the opportunity to use such endeavours as a showcase too - though if it’s not in a reputable venue within zone 2, the chances are slim.  A lovely example of this is The Factory, where a bunch of like-minded actors work on classical text and where everyone learns multiple parts, so if someone books a job they can drop out without a problem.  But that’s valuable work for the sake of craft as opposed to designed for getting you in front of potential employers.

You can pay to do ‘workshops’ with casting directors.  Yeah… well, I’ve tried them and find the whole experience quite upsetting.  Everyone in the room desperately trying to impress while all pretending that they’re learning something.  There are a few notable exceptions to that rule, but some are definitely borne of casting directors papering the cracks in their diaries.  The best thing to do is ask other actors who have attended these which session’s they’ve found useful and go from there.

Increasingly, there is a call for wrestling back your autonomy by creating your own work.  This is crucially important on a whole number of levels, but it also necessitates funding it yourself; or that you are able and willing  to wear multiple hats.  I’ve done this myself, producing and performing in a one man show that played in both Edinburgh and London.  It sold out both runs and got fantastic reviews - but cost be £3000 and not one of the 150 industry people I invited came.  So, glad I did it artistically, but not a template I could afford to return to.  

If you’re an actor who has no interest or talent in writing material themselves, you’re necessarily dependent on others to collaborate with - which is tricky in it’s own right, and a skill set you need to cultivate.  Should actors be taking courses on producing their own work?  Almost certainly.  Generally, I think drama schools are starting to encourage this approach more as the market gets more and more saturated.  David Williams Bryan is a great example of someone who is trying to take control for his career back by producing his own solo shows and documenting the whole process on social media.  This helps him build a narrative which people follow and buy in to,  resulting in more collaborative opportunities and increased ticket sales because he has an online audience already invested in the show.  But his model is based on doing one person theatre shows, which is not a format for everyone.

And so….

The profit share model is abused regularly - I wouldn’t dispute that.  Some advocates for such work abuse the model routinely and are consistently profiteering from young actors desperate for a reputable name on their CV.  Higher profile fringe venues pulling that shit I have a real problem with, and the work of Equity to get them to take more responsibility and secure additional funding is vital.

But the crux of the matter comes down to collaboration.  The perceived wisdom is that if the room is hierarchical, and you have someone calling themselves a director conducting rehearsals and giving call times, then that’s not truly collaborative and you MUST be paid as a result.

If someone believes that with no wiggle room, then I fully support their choice.  I also disagree with it.  Five of the low paid projects I’ve done over ten years have been open book.  I’ve been aware where all the money is coming and going, I’ve been given a rehearsal schedule that is flexible to accommodate my day job.  I feel that I need to do at least one show a year providing the project and part are sufficiently exciting, otherwise I feel like I’m stagnating.  These projects have felt collaborative, and I have created work that I’m extraordinarily proud of.  But I also know, having done the sums, that a sold out three week run of a 50 seater theatre isn’t going to pay anyone a living wage on the current model.  You need external funding for that.  

I keep asking people where this funding comes from.  I appreciate that private funding can be secured for projects, but it’s a HUGE long game - I’m six months into organising the run of a show at a sufficiently reputable venue that it will attract high profile industry and reviewers alike, but it’s going to take me a year or two to raise the 50k I need to pay everyone properly… so do I just not do any acting over that time?  

It’s an honest question.  I’m white, male and middle class.  I’d fully agree that the industry isn’t crying out for any more of my demographic.  The reason I’m able to keep afloat and be selective about the projects I do isn’t because of any family or saving support, but because I’ve managed to build a living from voiceover work.

But I want to keep on the bike.  The journey doesn’t involve many auditions for me at this stage, but I’m constantly looking for work I can stretch myself in and have no intention of quitting.  If people want to dismiss a third of my CV as amateur because it’s low paid, then that’s a problem I can’t solve.  I keep methodically writing to people in the industry whenever I have news for them.  But I do get a bit tired when all low/profit share work is lumped into one category and written off.  “Professionally made, professionally paid” is a catchy and commendable slogan, but shouldn’t be used to brow beat those actors who decide to peruse forms of work with shoe-string budgets.  We as actors can only deal with our day to day reality, so looking for viable alternatives and models to keep going in a saturated industry is what I’m all about.  I’d fully admit the current status-quo is imperfect and subject to exploitation. But as long as I keep my sites about me and make informed decisions, I’m not willing to quit either.

To conclude, all I can recommend is that actors evaluate such projects on a case-by-case basis, do their due-diligence and not be afraid to ask about the funding of a project.  That’s not harassing anyone, it’s a question of professionalism and respect.  Get savvy about what venues and casting directors and agents are likely to be willing to visit if that’s your aim - there’s no point in doing five weeks in St Albans and hoping anyone in London is going to come.  But if there’s an opportunity to work with exciting material, alongside talented people who you trust and are willing to accommodate your other commitments so that nobody starved during the process - don’t immediately dismiss it.  It may or may not give you ‘exposure’ or ‘experience’, but try to be clear about what you do  need at this point in your career, and whether any low/no paid option could help facilitate that.

Chris is an actor and voice over from Somerset, based in London.  All that stuff can be found at  He's also blogged about VO work at  He's mainly active on Instagram @chrisnaturallyrp but plugs stuff on Twitter @CGTester too.

Is It Overdone?

By Eleanor Walker

‘Is it overdone?!’: A question that myself and countless actor friends ask ourselves on a regular basis, referring to a song, or speech, or to the very act of being ourselves in an audition. We are obsessed with being unique and standing out. We spend hours trawling Youtube for the perfect song, even though we all love that one so-and-so did last week in class, and as auditionees, for drama school OR grown up acting jobs, we raid the National Theatre bookshop, throwing away countless great choices of speech that would suit us perfectly. I did it. I chose an obscure piece for my drama school auditions; dated and hardly ever performed any more, that didn’t really suit me or reflect the kind of actress that I want to be. I thought it was a great idea because I wouldn’t have to watch anyone else do the same speech, sat in that dreaded semi-circle on a Saturday afternoon, having been told about seven million times that most people don’t get in to this school in the first year of trying, anyway.

Ironically, I think someone did do the same speech as me at some point, which probably made an already uncomfortable seventeen-year-old me subject the poor teachers at whatever school it was to a rather diabolical show.

Since graduating drama school, I have been known to search the internet for weeks (I had a lot of warning) for a new audition piece, even though I have a ring binder full of them, determined that something ‘perfect’ will appear. A ‘lost gem’. Here’s the thing: it doesn’t.
My theory is this: the speeches that are GOOD have been done before (especially for classical; Shakespeare is so famous because he was the best writer around, and his speeches have all been done a million times over). The songs that are GOOD are the ones that are popular, i.e. there is a reason that the obscure musical performed once in 1999 hasn’t been on Broadway. It’s all well and good finding something ‘unknown’ and shocking or surprising your classmates if you’re still training, or the casting director if you’ve graduated, but that doesn’t make the MATERIAL good.

When I’ve made an obscure choice before, I’ve often found the language hard to access, or the music just not as easy on the ear, or I’ve just been less passionate about the piece… and if you’re not passionate about the piece, how on earth can you give a good performance?

On occasion, I’ve spent hours and hours preparing for an audition, only to get in the room, be handed some sides, and not even get asked to do the piece I’ve just slaved over.  So I now ask myself this question- if there is a chance that I may not even be required to DO this piece, why am I giving myself heart palpitations over it?! I should pick something that I enjoy singing, or a speech from a play that really excites me, and I should do my work on that, which is what I’m good at, and stop wasting hours in an internet wormhole trying to be ‘original’!  

Now, I’m not saying that we should all just stop making bold choices and sing ‘Defying Gravity’ for every audition. Of course not: anything iconic and irrevocably associated with one artist is a little bit daft to choose for an audition. We are not all Idina. Likewise, ‘Gallop apace’ is a fabulous speech; but Shakespeare wrote other roles for women apart from Juliet. However, I am starting to think that maybe we should all stop stressing quite so much about unique material, and more about what we are doing with it. Spending more time doing our research, analysing the text, actioning if that’s your cup of tea. It is this hard work, after all, that will distinguish one from the other people in the room, and it is this hard work that we all claim to be so in love with- that is being an actor.

This post is an updated version of the original, posted on
Eleanor is an Actor and Singer currently living in her hometown, Birmingham. She can regularly be spotted running around after 3 year olds in pre-school drama classes, behind a theatre bar, and in as many yoga classes as she can get herself to. Other hobbies include watching BBC4 History documentaries, dreaming of being in a period drama, and complaining about West Midlands Railway services to London. You can follow Eleanor on Twitter @WalkerEleanor

Yes, I'll Never Be Tom Cruise

By Aidan MacColl

I'm a year out of drama school and my framed degree in my parents living room isn't showing much for itself at the moment. 

I'm currently out of acting work, working in my local pub and living back at home with my parents. Picture the scene; it's a Sunday evening, I'm feeling a little low after seeing friends successful Instagram posts working around the world as various different types of performers. I'm working a closing shift in the pub. I pour the customer their usual order and they say to me, "Aidan, you're still young, why don't give you up the acting and get a normal job and make yourself happy. You're never gonna be Tom Cruise". It couldn't have been timed more tragically perfect. And in that moment a million thoughts ran through my head; fame isn't success, success isn't fame, I've gone to drama school and I have worked, I don't want to be Tom Cruise (I'd much rather be Meryl Strep). Somehow calmly and not through tears I told the man, actually you're not the first person to tell me that and I've worked too hard to get here. 

Here's the thing fellow unemployed drama school graduates. We have achieved something. Whether it feels like it or not. We have chosen to follow a career that makes us happy, we are actually chasing our dreams and for that we are so lucky. There's the slog. The slog we all face at different points in our careers. Even our fellow employed performer friends have faced it and will face it again. 

We are not failures. 

Let's remember we are still human and we're doing the best we can. I'm 22, and I've only just realised that I am still allowed to celebrate that. It's important to have things that keep us happy whilst we are not working. I actually just travelled to America to work at a children's summer camp for a month and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I had people say to me, "but is your agent happy?"
"Will this not put you at a disadvantage?". 
Why wasn't one of the first questions people asked, "will this make you happy?" 

It was a far more difficult decision than it should have been to go and do the job in the States. I felt as if I went I was admitting defeat of I'm not doing anything... but here's the beautiful thing... I wasn't doing anything! This was the time, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and grab the opportunity of my current break in employment and go. I knew that if I were ever in work again, my problems wouldn't all be fixed and I think back to this opportunity and wish I had went. I felt judged and as if this wasn't something I should be doing, I was no longer a student. (This was my 2nd time going to work at the summer camp, I'd done it in a summer break at drama school). Even though I was asked silly questions about the choice by friends and colleagues in this industry,  it was still a pressure I then began putting on myself (a theme I think that's reoccurring). I was also scared of what if I miss an audition? And I had to tell myself that's not a healthy way to live my life. When people take a month's break from any other job it wouldn't be questioned. So why should my month's break be debated? 

I can honestly say I had the time of my life. I met old friends and hung out with them. I met new friends and built such a special bond. People who have nothing to do with our industry and didn't care whether I had mostly recently been on the west end or performed in a care home tour. (Both of which are still employment). I helped with some things to do with drama and their summer musical, I worked in the arts and crafts shop, I worked in their office and ran evening program (different games of big glorified tag, dodgeball, other sports, organising movie nights and discos and more). I moved away from things to do with my degree and my art form (yet still using all the skill sets I've been trained to do - guess what actors are like really employable people in other areas) and I still felt fulfilled, happy and like I'd achieved a lot. 

I returned from the States, a little blue of course because reality is so very different, but mostly ready and re focused and with a much clearer head than I'd had in a very long time. I honestly think it may have saved me from a very dark place in my head I was starting to get to before I went. 

I'm lucky enough to have people around me who encouraged me and understood it's what I needed to do at that moment. But even if that's not the case for you, I urge you to put yourself, your happiness and wellbeing first. So I suppose what I'm trying to say is whatever your thing away from performing is, do it and do it with bells on. Do not apologise for not performing. We should never be ashamed to not be acting and we should never feel bad to have a B job or other opportunities that make us happy. Which is a reminder, let's check in with fellow actor and performer friends as humans first. If someone has something they want to share, they're more than likely going to share. More "how are you?" And less "how are auditions?" 

However, actor friends, I feel there's a certain pressure we put on ourselves when someone asks "how are you?" Or the dreaded question "what have you been up to?" (My personal least favourite). We want to answer in a way that's to do with our acting stuff. I've recently been trying to fight that with real honest answers. A friend of mine phoned me recently and asked, "how are things? What have you been up to?" My answer went a long the lines of, "a lot of Netflix, I finished two series, I went to the gym more than once this week - so that's kind of good, and I'm starting to think I might nap too much". 

We are more than our careers, we are people. We can have other interests and have many of them and we are allowed to have a bad day, week or month. So why don't we put these things to the forefront of our mind when we have these conversations? When I think about my parents over the years socialising with their friends, or working in the pub and watching straight men with other straight men (it's fascinating), when they're asked "how are you?" They don't immediately reply with what they're doing at work or the current stage of their career. They actually talk about how they are, even if that's a simple "aye, awryt you?" (Translated for non Scots: yeah, fine you?). And correct me if I'm wrong but the person doing the asking doesn't necessarily want to know how successful they are in their line of work at that moment. So why do we put that pressure on our ourselves?

Success can be measured in many ways and not just by the amount of performance opportunities and jobs you've had since graduating. We can be successful by building a supportive community for others and ourselves (shout out to 98% podcast). We can be really good at and enjoy our B job. (Which don't get me wrong I do, I just had a bad day). We can venture in to new things like writing a blog (why not?!) or discovering other creative outlets. There's so many things we can do to be successful as humans and not just as performers. 

It's difficult but the less we compare ourselves to others and the more we focus on ourselves and helping others we can feel happier and successful in the strange life and career we have chosen. And when someone tells you you're never gonna be Tom Cruise we can stand with pride and know it's about so much more than that. That's what I'm telling myself.

Aidan is a dog lover and actor from Glasgow. When he is not performing you can find him teaching, working in his local pub and attempting to write (yay, he did it!). Aidan is a big fan of The 98% podcast and tells almost every actor he meets about it. Follow Aidan on Twitter @aidanmaccoll96 for some professional things but mostly just thoughts about Ru Paul's Drag Race and the importance of Mamma Mia.

A thought piece on #YesOrNo

By Alexa Morden

A couple years ago I auditioned for a short film and got down to the final two for the part. Over the space of a couple days I was hearing more from my agent than domino’s promotional offers! “Casting wants to know if you have any allergies?” “Can you send us all your measurements for costume?” “Are you definitely free for the dates? Casting need to be 100% sure you’re free for the filming dates.” “These are the official filming dates, you’re definitely free?” 

I book 3 days off work for the shoot days, to absolutely assure my agent and the creative team that I would be free for filming if I were to get the part. My heart jumps into my throat every time my phone rings… “MUM I CAN’T TALK RIGHT NOW I’M WAITING TO HEAR FROM MY AGENT ABOUT IF I GOT THE PART! THEY KEEP ASKING QUESTIONS SO I CAN’T BE ON THE PHONE RIGHT NOW!” I can’t help but start to daydream about booking the job…the short film was a teaser for a feature film, what if they get funding for the feature and want me to continue playing the role! What could this lead to!!

After all of casting’s questions were answered…crickets. Radio silence. It was me or one other actress who got the part - surely I’d hear soon? More days go past and nothing. My agent tries to chase them up but hear nothing back. It gets to the night before filming…“well maybe the dates changed? Maybe they still haven’t decided?” the little voice in my head tells me. The filming days roll round and I sit at home on the sofa and turn into a bunny boiler, actor style…I’ve found the writer's, director's, producer's and casting director’s twitter. I’ve found the facebook page of the short film where they share announcements. I refresh them all over and over again daily, hourly, looking for a cast announcement so that I can get finality.

Finally the producer tweets “We are very excited to announce the cast for our next short film….” which the casting director retweets and in pour the comments of how exciting it looks. But to me that tweet wasn’t just a cast announcement. There, in 140 characters, was my answer. My rejection. My exhale. A reminder of all the times I’ve never heard back from an audition. A reminder that you can be so close but so far. But most of all a reminder that my time, effort, mental wellbeing, passion, dedication and hard work means nothing. The casting department had been so communicative with my agent when I was in the running, when I was valuable. But as soon as the director/producer/whoever it was made the final decision and I wasn’t valuable anymore - I was disposable. Not worth a phone call to say that in fact I won’t be needed. Now, a casting director may read this and think/know that that of course isn’t the case…but that is how it feels. And it can be all consuming. 

That experience has stuck with me all this time but it doesn’t end there. A few weeks ago this same casting director tweeted how they had a few no show’s to an audition that day and how disappointing it was that no one let them know. That the studio space costs money to rent out by the day and other people could have taken those audition slots. COMPLETELY valid points that I whole heartedly agree with. But I wish they had those same thoughts about those on the other side of the camera. I booked 3 days off work in a 0 hours contract so I missed out on more that £250 waiting to hear about that short film. I could have auditioned/been put up for something else in the time that my agent had blocked off those dates. And that’s just the logistical side of things, not even going into the mental and emotional side of being kept up in the air. What was it that made me not deserve a 30 second phone call of “thank you for your time but it isn’t good news this time.”?

Now this isn’t just a post of me moaning - I don’t go to bed at night and cry about how I didn’t get a part in a short film 2 years ago and how, if it wasn’t for twitter, I would have never even got an answer (ok fine, I've done it a few times ok!!) This blog post comes at a very poignant moment as Danny Lee Wynter (who founded the fantastic Act For Change campaign) is backing the #YesOrNo campaign which is starting a conversation about casting directors letting actors know the outcome of projects they auditioned for. Thankfully the campaign is gaining traction and creating a shift in the industry with many casting offices pledging to now always let auditionees know if/when they didn’t get the part which is a massive fist bump. I think I speak on behalf of the majority of actors when I say how much we appreciate the work the people behind the #YesOrNo campaign is doing.

But actors have been talking about this issue for AGES. And we know, we know, that casting directors are incredibly busy. That they are answering to so many people, that they have so much to do but it seems paradoxal (is that a word? It is now…) for everyone recently to be vocal about supporting mental health difficulties in the performing industry but still to act in a way that can induce anxiety, self doubt, depression, OCD (for example) by leaving actors in limbo. To see casting directors write really touching tweets about how impressed they are with the talented actors they see and what an amazing day of auditions it was and how much they respect the effort actors put in but not respect actors enough as people to give them closure and let them move on to the next audition or be able to book that bloody holiday they are hoping to not be able to go on because that means they booked a job instead. I’ve said from the beginning of my career that I would much prefer a blanket email to all of us 100+ rejectees that simply says “NOPE” than the absolute silence we get practically 100% of the time (unless it’s good news).

The above story I felt was only worth mentioning because I actually got down to the final two and within reaching distance of the role and I wish I could genuinely ask that casting director why they didn't give us an answer. Lack of time couldn't be the reason so I can't help but think they acted that way just because they can. But if we take into account all first round auditions I honestly cannot tell you even one time I heard back about the outcome of an audition without my agent ringing them and asking. If actors can get an email at 6pm on a Wednesday night with an audition at 11am the next morning and arrange to get out of their day job, research the previous work of the casting director/director/producer/writer, read an entire film script, learn 10 pages of audition sides, get a good enough sleep to look presentable at the audition and give a good performance...Or the opposite end of the spectrum; having weeks to prepare, rehearsing the scene with a friend, reading the play front to back more than once, working on the character, having amazing feedback from the people in the room, I don’t think it’s too much to ask to hear about if it’s going any further or not. That's not me insisting that every casting office should get back to every applicant no excuses. Just that actors shouldn't be made to feel like they're asking too much/speaking out of turn to expect/want it. Every other application process in the professional world (that isn’t in the creative industry) as far as I’m aware lets applicants know of the outcome. 

A couple months ago I was reading twitter threads from casting directors saying how they’d love to let actors know the outcome but they just didn’t have time, who are now making the #YesOrNo pledge so it’s great to see most are really starting to now take notice. And there are of course casting offices who have made letting everyone know the outcome part of their casting process for years. There are talks being had with Spotlight to create a “project now cast” box that casting directors can check when all roles are filled which is a great and simple solution.

People, mainly non actors, tend to think that rejection is the hardest part of the audition process. But it actually isn’t. Knowing that you’ve most probably been rejected whilst simultaneously daydreaming about playing that role you poured your soul into for days of preparation is worse. It’s the same as being ghosted in the dating game. A simple “you’re nice but I’m not feeling it” is better than suddenly never hearing from them again, right? Just like a “thanks for coming in but it’s a no this time” may sting but it isn’t the sucker-punch to the gut that is putting your life on hold for weeks and feeling the excitement in your belly grow and then reading a tweet that makes your self worth hit the floor that you then have to consciously work at building up again for it all to happen again for the next audition. Actors love casting directors…thanks to them we get to do that thing we want to do all the time for a part of our day. And we appreciate how hard they work and how amazingly they can multitask in and outside of the audition room. But with ghosting being a common enough thing that there's a word for it, there's enough of it going around in our private lives - it'd be great to minimise it in our professional ones!

Alexa is one half of The 98% podcast. One of her Dad's favourite performances of hers was playing Aunt Sponge in James and the Giant Peach in the annual local Stagecoach production when she was about 8 years old. You can find out a lot of stories and thoughts from Alexa by listening to The 98% wherever you get podcasts! Or by having a mooch around this website and following her on twitter @alexamorden and instagram @alexa_morden!

Less "What's next?" More "What now?"

By Bethany Tennick

I’m writing this behind a bar. A local pub holding an eclectic mix of working men (Bud John- who
only drinks Bud, Charlie- with a cat he named Bastard, and Ponytail Adam), and students from the Conservatoire across the street (Louisa, with her highlights and LuLuLemon leggings, Trumpet Stacey, and Samir- with his fancy camera and theories on why Wes Anderson is ‘just, like, the best’). These people- these friends, regulars, former peers- have one question in common;
“What’s next, Beth?”

Well, Bethany Jean, what the heck is next?
The pub, my family, everyone who cares about me is asking. They don’t mean to cause anxiety,
they really don’t, but they do. Each time someone asks me what’s next my soul leaves my little
blonde body, and I make some joke about being a starving artist, and living la vie boheme.
Everybody laughs, and I go about my day. Jokes aside, I feel like these people only really want to
know whether or not I’m on the West End yet. An upsettingly common definition of success. They
don’t want to hear about the all-female profit share musical I’m doing at the Edinburgh Fringe, or
that the thing I’m most excited about right now is flying to a small Scottish Island next month to
devise a new piece of music theatre. I’m not going into Les Mis. Or Mamma Mia. Or Hairspray.
These things I have that excite me are small, and my Granny can’t sing along to the soundtrack
after a glass of sherry, so my non-theatre family and friends remain uninterested.

What’s next, Beth?

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been incredibly lucky. I’m about to have two months of solid performance work, more than a lot of people get the summer of graduating from drama school. I came down with a mild case of ‘right place, right time’, and I am riding my miniature wave of success as long as I can. The only thing is- I’m petrified. And I’m not the only one. Everyone I graduated with, even those with work right now, are scared. Scared of that inevitable break in work, that bout of unemployment, that little voice in your head that says “if you were good, you’d have more work”.

What’s next?

My good friend Emma said to me “It’s almost like your life is buffering until you get a job and that
can be okay if you find things to keep you going, like when Netflix is on 99% for ten minutes”. The
summer after graduating from drama school is the ultimate buffering moment. A pause in time. A
raised hammer. A sharp inhale.
She’s right. (Emma’s always had a way with a simile.) Life is buffering, and that doesn’t mean
anything’s broken, or the next chapter in the series isn’t worth waiting for, it just means you need to be patient.
So maybe the question isn’t “What’s next?” but more “What now?” When a film or episode is
buffering, I make tea. I message friends. I send ugly double-chin snapchats to my boyfriend (ah,
the true test of love). These small things don’t serve too much purpose in the long run, but they
make me happy now. This meantime happiness gets me through the seemingly never-ending
buffering, and with this in mind, I’ve discovered a small list of things I can do (as well as some
things suggested by my performer friends) to make the most of my buffering phase.

1) Watch things.
Theatre. Films. Netflix. Your cousin’s new girlfriend’s daughter’s dance show. You could
save up for that West End show you’ve been dying to see, or you could pay a fiver ad
support your local AmDram society. Remind yourself what you’re passionate about, what
you like to watch, and what you want to do.

2) Find a hobby again!
It can be sugar-honey-iced-tea when you wake up and realise that your only hobby has
become your job, and it’s not even a job you’re currently employed in. (It happens to the best of us, friends.) Finding someone you love that you feel no pressure to be good at (I personally am a terrifically bad watercolour portrait) can be a saving grace when you want to fill some time, clear your head, or be creative without the pressure of a paycheck.

3) A social life? Never heard of it.
See your friends and family! This is the time! You’re not in tech, you’re not on tour. In
between auditions and gigs, see the people who matter most to you. Try to see this break
from work as a gift. Time to sit with you mum, or best friend, or flatmate over tea and
actually talk, not just fling a quick life update at each other as you rush to the next
rehearsal. Help your sister plan her wedding (something I’m doing now and have about
forty Pinterest boards dedicated to). Help your flatmate rearrange her room. Get some
cocktails with your old school friends. These are the things that you wish you had time for
when you’re in a show or film, and these are the things that can often get forgotten.

4) Keep skills alive. (Sounds boring- doesn’t have to be.)
If you’re a dancer, take a class. If you’re a singer, learn some new music. Fork out for a
lesson once in a while. Practise your instruments. (Even if it’s that stupid clarinet you
thought would be a good idea. You’ve done it now, Beth. Commit!) Read plays and keep
searching for monologues. The last thing you want is to get an audition and feel like you’ve
forgotten how to do that thing you spent years training to do. Be ready, keep on it, an don’t
forget how skilled you are.

5) Make your own work.
Write, direct, film. There are a million facebook groups looking for actors and creatives for
new work. Spend your evenings and weekends doing what you love, and make something
you’re proud of. Who knows? Maybe it’ll get picked up. The next Rent, Spring Awakening,
Come From Away. They all started out small. You do you, boo.

6) Get a B Job you like. Or at least doesn’t make you want to cry.
I thrive on my bar job. Taking to people. Being in control of the music. I’ve even used it to
make some friends who live in the area. Friends! Real ones! It’s not where I want to end up
in life, but it’ll do for now. Find something that’ll do for you.

7) Don’t despair. Please.
This period can seem the loneliest of your life. And I feel you. My parents and siblings live
in a different country, almost all of my closest friends moved city after graduating, I was
close to broke, and for the first three months after grad I was in a long-distance relationship.
Loneliness and boredom was something I started to associate with my daily life and I hated
it. I was living and waiting for the next audition. Waiting for a text. Waiting for a shift at the
bar. For my friend to facetime. For anything, really. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I want
to live a fulfilled little life- whether I’m a working actor or not.

At the end of the day- I’m twenty years old. I don’t have to have a fabulously blossoming career
just yet. I can enjoy a bar work, get pinterest-obsessed, write and rewrite my poems and songs and scripts. I can have a beer, a sneaky fag (don’t tell my old singing teacher), and do Justin
Timberlake karaoke. I can laugh along to the ‘starving artist’ jokes. I can casually deflect the
questioning parents and grandparents, the ‘pay us back when you’re famous’, the comparison to
my apparently more successful peers. I don’t owe anything to anybody apart from myself- and
neither do you.

Bethany is a Scottish performer, writer, and very successful waitress. She has an accent that just won’t quit, has dreams of writing the next generation-defining album, and has just graduated from drama school. She runs a Glasgow-based performance company called Renfrew Collective, and in between sending emails and trying (failing) to come up with witty tag lines, she loves to listen to The 98% podcast to keep her sane. Almost. 
Follow her on twitter where she tries to be funny- @BethanyTennick You can find her as 'Bethany Tennick- Music' on Facebook if you want to hear some tunes.